Hail to the Queen

Regina steps out of Leo’s apartment into the building’s narrow stairwell, the heavy door thudding behind her. The air is colder here, carrying bleach, old concrete, and frying oil from somewhere below. Coach Sun is already waiting by the landing window, and The Referee stands beside him with a folder tucked under one arm.

Leo hovers one step behind Regina, watchful but letting her lead. Coach Sun flips the folder open, revealing forms, payout estimates, and a clean venue permit with a blank line where Regina’s name should be. He taps the blank space once, hard.

From downstairs, a door slams. Footsteps echo up the stairwell, slow and deliberate. Everyone stills. Coach Sun closes the folder halfway, and The Referee’s hand slips nearer to his phone.

Regina shifts into the center of the landing, shoulders squared under the harsh fluorescent light. The stairwell feels smaller around her, but the forms stay in view, waiting for her answer while the footsteps keep climbing.

The words hang in the cold stairwell. Coach Sun’s folder stops mid-close, and The Referee lifts his chin as if hearing a clause he did not expect.

Leo glances from Regina to the paperwork, then back again, his relief breaking through the tension. He reaches for the edge of the permit, careful, like it might tear if he breathes wrong.

Below them, the footsteps slow, then stop on the next landing. The landing window catches a shadow passing outside, but nobody comes through. Coach Sun slides the folder toward The Referee anyway, and Leo lets out one quiet breath.

Regina lets the silence settle, then gives a small nod that says the terms are enough.

The Referee’s grip tightens on the papers, and he answers with a short, satisfied breath, already looking like a man drafting the next page in his head.

Coach Sun’s mouth firms, but the edge is gone now. He taps the folder once, a coach’s promise with a businessman’s caution.

Leo’s shoulders drop at last. He looks from Regina to the contract, relief softening into pride as he reaches for the pen the Referee offers.

The pen scratches twice, then Leo slides the first signed page back across the folder. The Referee follows with a neat signature, and Coach Sun watches both names land like money already counted.

Outside, the stairwell footsteps stop at the landing below. No one comes up, but the contract is real now, and the room shifts around that fact.

Regina folds the signed page once and tucks it under the folder edge, then turns for the stairwell with her shoulders loose and her jaw set. The landing gives her a clear path down.

She cracks her knuckles as she steps off the top stair, the sound sharp in the narrow shaft. It carries downward, and the waiting below goes still.

Halfway down, the banister shivers under her hand. Her boot catches on a loose tread, but she keeps her balance and keeps moving.

At the lower landing, a plain brown envelope lies pressed against the wall, dropped and forgotten from the paperwork exchange. Regina reaches the bottom first, the route behind her now cut off by the turn of the stairs.

From the floor below, a door opens a crack and a stranger's shadow leans into the light. Whatever is coming up the stairwell is now meeting her on her ground.

Regina snatches the plain envelope from the lower landing before anyone else can touch it. It yields with a soft tear as she peels it open.

Inside, a cashier's check and a folded venue packet flash under the stairwell light, both made out under Regina King’s name.

Coach Sun takes one look down the stairs, then back at the paperwork. The open door below reveals a man in a basement coat, pausing hard at the sight of her holding the envelope.

The lower-floor stranger stops in the crack of the doorway, boxed out by the contract in her hand. The approach is over, and the money trail points straight to Regina.